


Conversations in a Foxhole

by sawfilms



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e07 The Breaking Point, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawfilms/pseuds/sawfilms
Summary: Carwood and George have a quiet discussion in Bastogne following Skip and Penkala's deaths.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Conversations in a Foxhole

Carwood Lipton, as he stares out across the line to where he knew the Germans were camped out, decides that the moment this godforsaken war ends he's moving to Florida. He's had enough snow and cold to last several lifetimes, if the tremor in his hand as he balances a cigarette between two numbed fingers is any indication of the frigid temperatures he's come to quietly despise. Over several months, Easy Company has been positioned in Bastogne. _A_ _bove all else, hold the line._ His derisive snort is lost to the wind, instead simply coming out as a huff of warm air that steams out from his nostrils in a mockery of smoke, billowing up into the chilled air before dissipating as quick as it came. He watches it in slight disdain before his gaze slides back to the front.

Lipton takes a drag from his cigarette as if it would warm him and shivers as a cold blast of wind buffets his body, startling slightly when a weight settles heavy next to him. Glancing over with some effort, he sees that George Luz has slid into the foxhole Lipton called his own and is now huddling next to Lip, the shivers that wrack his own thin form not going unnoticed by Lip's keen eyes. Wordlessly, he shuffles closer to George and offers his thin army-issue blanket to his friend, a gesture George gladly accepts, settling under the fabric with a soft breath, another shiver making the other man curl in on himself from the force. Lip, a soft noise of worry rising in the back of his throat, shifts himself so he can wrap an arm around his friend's trembling form, pulling George closer and rubbing his arm briskly with his hand in an attempt to give some warmth back to his friend's cold body.

"Fuckin' hate the cold, Lip," George mumbles as Lip continues the motions of his hand on George's arm and shoulder, Lip hearing how George's voice shook from how much he trembled. He could only assume he was in a similar, if not the same, state. "When we get stateside, I'm gettin' a big house in the Bahamas, ya'know? Right by the beach where I can get a nice suntan and watch all the pretty Bahama girls walk by in their Bahama bikinis." Lip huffs a laugh but doesn't say anything, trying to reserve his energy. "If I gotta see another snowflake, I'll go crazy, I tell ya," George finishes with a shiver that makes his teeth chatter, Lip watching as his friend clenches his jaw in order to make the click of his teeth stop. They both freeze as a spatter of gunfire sounds across the clearing before them, Lip instinctively hunkering down and closing his eyes, waiting for the echo to fade and for silence to fall yet again over the snow covered trees. George is glaring at the other side of the clearing, eyes narrowed slightly. "Damn Krauts are trigger-happy bastards, aren't they?"

Lip only hums his agreement, adjusting his helmet with his free hand before offering his almost forgotten cigarette to George, who accepts with a soft word of thanks before taking a few puffs, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales slow. Lip watches for a moment before reaching into his pocket to slip a new one out - _a Lucky Strike, the last of its pack_ \- placing it between his lips as George offers his lighter, hand cupped around it to shield the flame from the wind and the prying eyes of the enemy. Lip lights the cigarette and takes a drag, exhaling with a cough he muffles into his jacket. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see George eye him carefully before turning his attention upwards, as if his interest had been captured by something in the sky. Lip can hear some soft mumbled conversations from the other men in their foxholes, a cough or two here and there. He redirects his gaze to his hands, which are still trembling, sighs softly.

After a period of silence, and Lip slowly starting to drift off, George speaks.

"Hey, Lip?"

Lip blinks awake and looks over at his friend, who's gaze hasn't left whatever was so interesting to him in the sky above them.

"Yeah, boy?" No response. George is quiet, cigarette dangling forgotten between parted lips as he stares up at the sky. Lip frowns and speaks again. "Luz?"

This snaps George out of it, the man blinking a couple times as if awoken from a dream before turning to look at Lip. The raw emotion he sees in George Luz's eyes takes him aback, pain and hurt swimming in the brown depths - the look of a man trying to understand why he has to bear the weight of this world. George quickly takes a drag of his cigarette before plucking it from his lips and snubbing it out on his glove, returning his gaze to the sky before speaking, voice quieter than before.

"D'you think they're up there? Skip and Penk?"

Lip stares at his friend for a moment before finally turning his own gaze heavenward, seeing a sea of stars waiting for him, twinkling innocently in a black abyss. There was no moon in sight, the stars seeming to give off their own light individually, and Lip doesn't need to ask what George means, because he already knows.

Lip wasn't much of a religious man. In some far away time and place, he went to church on Sunday with his ma and brother and said his prayers every night before bed, but after the things he'd witnessed in this war, he found himself stopping to think about the things one doesn't usually stop to think about under normal circumstances. The afterlife was one of these things he pondered. Every man he's lost to this war, every boy who would never get to go home to their family, to their mothers and fathers bearing shiny medals to represent the sacrifices made for his country. He thought about them, where they went, or if they even went at all. Did they linger? Forced to roam the bloodied fields that became their final resting place? Did they realize they were dead? Still fighting a seemingly endless war without realizing that for them, the war was over? Did his boys go to Heaven like they all were taught to believe? - what they _made_ themselves believe in order for them to not go mad? Or were they watching from above, twinkling in the sky among the countless stars.

As if in response, a star seemed to blink at Lip, making him choke up and avert his gaze. He focuses on his hands, still trembling from cold he doesn't seem to feel anymore.

_How many friends would they have to lose to fill up the sky with twinkling stars?_

When Lip comes back to himself, George hasn't moved from where he sat staring up at the stars, as if he hasn't noticed Lip hadn't responded to his question.

_Explosions all around them, wood splintering like twigs, lights flashing like the fourth of July, his mouth pulled into a grin that hurts his face feeling too wide and too crazed to be sincere. Laughs ripped from his throat like sobs, eyes glazed over and reflecting each flash of a shell as it impacts the earth. If he focuses hard enough he's in Huntington with his brother, chasing each other with sparklers as fireworks boom in the sky._

_He's screaming, rolling and taking cover in the nearest foxhole he can find, barely hearing cries and hollers from his men over the explosions one after the other. Then George is there, crawling forward and forward, stopping when shells come anew, before moving again. Then he stops, illuminated briefly by the flash of a nearby explosion, Lip cannot see his face from where he sits, but when George starts to scramble back, he reaches and pulls the smaller man into the foxhole with him._

_Thunk._

_Two pairs of shellshocked gazes stare dumbfounded at the smoking dud as it fizzles and dies in front of them, too scared to move, too scared to stay put. The click of a lighter startles him from his daze and he sees George lighting up. Wordlessly, he takes the smoke from his friend and welcomes the vice into his trembling fingers. He only fully learns later the fates of Skip Muck and Alex Penkala._

Lip takes a drag from his cigarette, then another for good measure, before finally responding.

"I'd like to think so."

The stars twinkle in silent reply.

**Author's Note:**

> first time writing anything BoB related, so be gentle gfjfhfjd


End file.
